


I'll Fall Right Back to You

by MCRmyGeneral



Series: Words I Never Said [11]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Fluff, Iggy ships Gallavich, M/M, Promises, Reconciliation, So does Debbie, Supportive Iggy, everyone ships it, refusal of medication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 00:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCRmyGeneral/pseuds/MCRmyGeneral
Summary: "Sorry I'm late."Mickey and Ian's reunion scene from 5x8.





	I'll Fall Right Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a bit short compared to some of the others, but to be fair, I didn't have a whole lot of scene to work with. Regardless, I like what I did with this one.
> 
> Title is from Clarity by Foxes featuring Zedd. And while I'm talking about Clarity, I made a cute little Gallavich video about our boys because I felt that that song fit their relationship perfectly. It's right [here](https://youtu.be/jhLIR_Hz88Q) if you wanna go watch it; I'd really appreciate it!

The door to Mickey's room was thrown open, and Mickey glared at the redhead standing there. Debbie, Ian's younger sister. She stared at him expectantly.

This was _so_ not what he needed right now. He was certainly not in the mood for the littlest, brattiest Gallagher to give him the third degree about his maybe-relationship-ending. What was between Ian and him was between Ian and him. Of course, if he would man up and go see him, they could figure it all out and he wouldn't be left wondering if he was single or not. He glared at Debbie for a good minute as she just pursed her lips at him.

“Ian fucking sent you?” He snarled, still playing his guitar. He realized then that he was naked as the day he was born, but he was too drunk to care.

Debbie frowned. “No, Ian didn't send me. Ian flushed all his meds down the freakin' toilet.”

Something stirred in Mickey's chest, regardless of his buzz. That wasn't good. That was a total Monica move.

“What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” Mickey rolled his eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Can you help me get these drugs?” Debbie yelled over the music. She tossed him a plastic bag full of empty pill bottles.

Mickey scanned the labels. They were Ian's meds. “Iggy!” He screamed over the music. A moment later, Iggy walked in, and Mickey tossed the bag to him. “Can you get that shit?”

Iggy made a face as he read the labels on the pill bottles. “Who the fuck gets high on lithium?” He asked sarcastically around a full mouth of cold beef stew. “No one.”

“So?”

“So I can't get 'em. I can get you crack, crystal, horse, E. But this shit, no,” He explained, tossing the bag back to Debs. “There's no market for it.”

“I'll take some fucking crack,” Mickey said, and Iggy laughed at him.

“You got money?”

Mickey shot his brother a dirty look and Iggy walked away. He turned his attention back to his guitar, trying to play along to the music. It had been a few years since he played, but the notes were coming back to him quickly.

“Fine,” Debbie said finally, crossing her arms. “I'll find somewhere else to get them.”

Mickey scoffed. “Where's a kid gonna get her hands on lithium?”

“I'll figure it out. When are you gonna come by to see Ian?”

Mickey swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at the mention of Ian's name.

“He's been home all day,” Debbie continued. “Maybe if you were there... Did you guys break up or something?”

Mickey licked his bottom lip. _Had_ he and Ian broken up? He wasn't sure. He growled at Debbie. “None of your fucking business, nosy.”

“Please tell me you didn't break up with him. Because I'm pretty sure he didn't mean to kidnap your baby.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Debbie made a face at him. “He loves you. And you love him. Why wouldn't I want you two to be happy?”

Guilt flooded through Mickey's veins. He didn't realize how many people were in his and Ian's corner. He shook his head.

“So why haven't you been around?” Debbie continued, relentless as always.

“I'm fucking busy, Peppermint Patty!” He teased. He was done with explaining himself to Ian's little sister. “Go whine at someone who gives a shit.”

Debbie's eyes narrowed and she stomped over to turn off Mickey's stereo, an intense silence invading the room. God, she was just at stubborn as the rest of the fucking Gallaghers. He finally looked up from his guitar, to see Debbie staring almost sadly at him. 

“Frank used to drink like this,” She said, nodding, “When Monica was around and they would fight, he would angry drink. It never worked. He always came back to her.”

Mickey blinked slowly.

Debbie crossed her arms. “You can't drink him away, Mickey,” She shook her head, “It won't work. If you love him, you love him. But you have to love _all_ of him. You can't pick and choose. And you certainly can't give up. Because if you two give up on each other when things get hard, then you guys are no better than Frank and Monica.”

Mickey sighed as he watched Debbie leave. Was that what he was doing? Trying to drink Ian away?

He took the guitar off his back and set it in its stand, then grabbed the first clean pair of boxers he found and headed for the shower. A hot shower always helped him sober up.

He thought about the last few days as he let the steaming water run down his back and over his face.

It wasn't so much that he was trying to drink Ian away. He still loved the boy with every fiber of his being. He still wanted to be with Ian, to have him around. But the way he looked in the hospital, like he was a different person, _that's_ what Mickey was trying to erase. He didn't want to remember Ian like that. He wanted the boy he loved back. But maybe that boy was gone.

Or maybe he just needed help. He was going through a lot of shit, and as much as it hurt Mickey to see him like that, Ian was probably hit by it way worse. And Mickey had left him hanging, left him alone to deal with it on his own.

What kind of boyfriend was he? As much as he hated to admit it, maybe Debs was right. He didn't want his relationship to end, and he knew in his heart that Ian didn't either. And he _certainly_ knew that neither of them wanted to be Ian's parents. Frank and Monica's relationship was weak, crumbling every time they tried to build it up again. He and Ian were stronger than that. They loved each other for real, the way Frank and Monica didn't know how to love.

He slapped the water off and stepped out of the tub, not bothering to dry off before he pulled some clothes on. He moved quickly, with a purpose. He needed Ian to know that he wasn't giving up, that he never would. He needed to see him, and see him now.

“I’m headin’ out,” He said to Iggy as he walked through to living room to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Gallagher’s. Going to see Ian.”

Iggy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ finally.”

Mickey froze and looked back over his shoulder. “What?”

“It's about time. How long were you plannin’ on making him sit around waiting for your ass? He's your boyfriend, you love him, you should be there with him, especially if he's going through some bad shit.”

Mickey scoffed. "Yeah, cuz _you're_ the expert on love around here."

Iggy threw a couch pillow at Mickey, harder than was necessary. "I don't need to be fuckin' Dr. Phil, asshole. I know I'm not a fuckin' Honor Roll student, but I know that when you love someone, you're there to support them. Dad taught us a lot of shit, from stealin' to dealin', but he also taught us how _not_ to treat the people you care about. And bailin' on 'em like you're doin' to Ian is real shitty. I like Ian well enough, and he deserves better than someone who's gonna run away when shit gets bad."

Usually if Iggy had mouthed off like that, Mickey would be throwing punches. But now he just kind of looked at his dim-witted brother in amazement. Then he got really disappointed in himself. You knew you were being an idiot when Iggy and Debbie had to set you straight.

Mickey smiled. “You know, you're not as dumb as you seem, Ig.”

Iggy grinned and turned his attention back to the tv.

Mickey rolled his eyes and walked out the door.

****

He drew in a deep breath, not sure if the Gallaghers would even let him through the door. He wouldn't blame them. He'd all but abandoned Ian when he needed all the support he could get. Guilt settled in his stomach but he pushed past it, walking gently up the front porch stairs. He didn't bother knocking on the door, he just opened it and walked in, pausing right inside the living room.

Three pairs of eyes turned his way; Debbie's, Lip’s and Fiona's. He suddenly felt like a kid again, standing in front of the principal getting his ass chewed for whatever trouble he'd made this time. Only now, he actually felt bad for what he'd done, instead of proud.

Mickey ignored the younger Gallaghers, focusing on Fiona, who was closest to him, perched on the arm of the couch. She looked surprised and a little angry, but mostly relieved. Fiona reminded him a lot of his mother; caring and protective and always ready to kick an ass if she needed to. He liked her, and now that he thought about it, he really hoped he hadn't made it onto her shit list in the past 72 hours.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ian here?”

Her lips lifted into a smile. She nodded toward the ceiling. “He's upstairs.”

“Yeah,” Mickey exhaled, nodding shortly. He turned toward the stairs.

“Mickey,” Fiona called to him. He turned back and she was there, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him gently.

He wasn't sure what to do at first, but his uncertainty dissipated quickly. He hugged Fiona back, holding on maybe too long, but Fiona didn't let go. She understood why Mickey had stayed away. But he had come back, and that was what mattered.

Mickey stepped away with a blush on his cheeks, and Fiona beamed at him.

“Go on,” She instructed, patting his shoulder. “He's in bed.”

Mickey nodded and turned up the stairs. The house was quiet, which was unusual. He liked the fast pace the Gallagher house had. Everyone was always doing something, and there were a million things going on, the whole feel of the house was always go-go-go. This stillness was strange and ominous, and it made Mickey's skin crawl.

He set his eyes on the door to Ian's bedroom, cracked half-open. The light inside was warm and soft. Mickey paused right outside the door and took a deep breath. What if Ian turned him away? What if he fucked up his chances? He loved the boy, and the thought of never being with him again made Mickey want to sob. He exhaled slowly and pushed the door open, walking inside gently.

Ian was in bed, turned toward the wall. Mickey walked over to the bed, his heart aching a bit.

Ian heard soft footsteps and rolled over, his eyes widening when he saw Mickey. He leaned up on his elbows and rubbed his eyes, making certain the boy wasn't a mirage.

Mickey wasn't sure what to say. Should he apologize? Explain? He sighed. “Hey,” He said softly.

Ian's lips parted. “Hey.”

“Sorry I'm late,” Mickey said simply, hoping Ian would understand. Ian did, chuckling once, softly.

Mickey pulled his sweatshirt off and crawled into the small bed beside Ian. He ran his fingers gently through Ian's hair. “I'm sorry I'm late,” He repeated.

Ian nodded. “It's okay,” He whispered.

Mickey breathed out a sigh of relief, setting his forehead against Ian's, continuing to run his thumb along the boy's cheekbone. He leaned in and set his lips gently against Ian's forehead, which made his eyes flutter closed and his lips curl up into a smile.

“How do you feel?” Mickey asked softly, not wanting to disrupt the actually comfortable quiet that settled into the room.

Ian shrugged. “I don't, really. I'm not happy, not sad, not angry. Just kind of apathetic, like I don't really care about anything.”

Mickey nodded.

Ian licked his lips nervously. “How's Yevgeny?” He asked almost sadly.

“He's fine,” Mickey answered quickly, “He's totally fine. He's at home with Svetlana. He didn't get hurt at all; it's like nothing ever even happened,” Mickey said, hoping to reassure the boy.

Of course, Ian shook his head. “I took him. I just fucking took him. I don't even know why. I'm so sorry, Mickey,” Ian sobbed, rolling onto his side and pressing his face into Mickey's chest.

Mickey wrapped his arms around the redhead, holding him securely against his body. He shook his head. “He won't even remember it. It's fine. Nothing happened to him.”

“But something _could've_ ,” Ian insisted. “I would never hurt him, Mick.”

“I know.”

“I love him.”

“I know,” Mickey repeated.

Ian leaned back, far enough to look him in the eye. “I love _you_.”

Mickey inhaled and smiled. He kissed Ian gently, slowly. “I love you, too, Ian,” He whispered when he pulled away.

“You mean it?”

“No, I'm fuckin’ lying to you,” Mickey said with a roll of his eyes, and Ian chuckled before settling back against Mickey's chest. “Do you forgive me?”

“For?”

“Not being here when you got home. For staying away.”

Ian shook his head. “Nothing to forgive. You're here now. That's what's important. I know this is hard for you, too. I don't blame you for not being able to handle crazy.”

“You're not crazy,” Mickey said firmly.

“I'm not _normal_ ,” Ian argued. “I'm fucked up, Mick.”

Mickey sighed and ran his fingers through Ian's hair. “Yeah, but it's okay. You'll get better.”

“I flushed all my meds.”

“We'll get you more.”

“I don't _wanna_ take ‘em.”

“You gotta, Ian.”

“What if I don't?” Ian asked softly, looking up through his lashes at Mickey.

Mickey swallowed at the loaded question. He couldn't break up with him, but he also couldn't stand by and watch him turn into his mother, the one person in this world he hated more than Frank. He sighed and leaned in, kissing Ian sweetly.

Ian seemed to take that as an answer, closing his eyes and nuzzling even closer to Mickey, his body radiating warmth despite the chilly Autumn weather.

“I'm sorry.”

Mickey cocked an eyebrow. “What are you sorry for?”

Ian sighed. “Everything. I fucked everything up. Everything was amazing. We were a family: you, me, Svetlana, Yevgeny, even Iggy and Mandy. We had a home, it was,” He sighed again, “It was perfect,” He said, snaking his arm around Mickey's waist and pulling him even closer, “And then I went and fucked it all up. I cheated on you.”

Mickey made a noise in his throat, and Ian looked up at him. “Christ, Mickey, I'm so fucking sorry. I never meant to. I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't even know what I was doing until it was over. God, I'm so sorry,” He sobbed, “I wouldn't blame you for hating me.”

Mickey frowned. “I don't hate you, Ian. I'm not happy about it, but I understand. It's what the disease does to you. You didn't cheat on me, bipolar did.”

“Promise?”

Mickey smiled and kissed Ian's forehead again. “I promise. Just don't ever do it again, or I'll kick your fuckin’ ass,” He laughed, and Ian laughed, too.

“What do I have to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“To be normal again? To get our life, our home, our family back? How do it get it all back?”

“It's all still there, Ian. But you need to start taking the medications.”

Ian groaned. “I hate them, though. They make me feel terrible.”

“Would you rather end up like your mom? You hate her, your whole family does. I know you don't want them to hate you, too. I know you don't wanna push them away because you refuse to take your meds.”

Ian sighed, and Mickey frowned.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. I'll take you to the clinic, we'll get you new meds, and then afterward, we’ll come home and fuck like we're sixteen again.”

Ian chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to the base of Mickey's neck. “Guess I can't say no to an offer like that.”

Mickey smiled.

“You're gonna stay, right?” Ian asked after a while, sleepily.

Mickey furrowed his brow. “Of course.”

He felt Ian's muscles loosen up and a moment later, he was snoring gently.

Mickey dug his nose into Ian's hair and inhaled deeply, holding the boy’s scent in his lungs as long as he could. He missed this, just holding him and feeling Ian pressed against himself. He smiled and tightened his arms a bit, which made Ian let out a contented sigh.

Whatever the morning held, it could wait. More pills, more arguments, more heartbreak. It could all take a backseat. Right here, right now, this was what was important. And Mickey was gonna savor the moment as long as he could.

He wasn't sure when he'd get to feel it again.

**Author's Note:**

> Only one more left! If you have any requests or prompts outside this series, let me know [here](http://ieroween1031.tumblr.com/ask)!


End file.
